


Road to Nowhere

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-13
Updated: 2003-01-13
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: A possible Krycek before the FBI.





	Road to Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Road to Nowhere

### Road to Nowhere

#### by Jamwired

Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own Alex Krycek or the smoker. The X-files and its characters are the property of Chris Carter and Twentieth Century Fox Film. Copyright infringement is not intended. 

This is a m/m, PWP, Adult story. That means: two pages graphically detailing two men having SEX, and there is NO PLOT! If you are under age or this sort of thing offends you, leave now. You have been warned. 

* * *

Road to Nowhere 

* * *

September 23, 1981  
New York 

The room smelled rank and stale. It had the used smell that all cheap motel rooms had. The walls were tinged with a yellow tint, and the carpets were dark enough that over half of the stains probably didn't show. Alex closed his eyes and threw an arm over his face as a small drop of sweat dripped down his forehead. The blush covering his body wasn't due to the heat in the room, although the high temperature was less than inviting, and Alex hated working when he was sick. Alex rolled over onto his side, trying to lessen the nausea. It wasn't working, and when his mouth started to water, he rolled out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom. 

He stopped at the sink and leaned over it, choking several times before his stomach finally gave out and emptied its contents. A moan found its way from his lips, and he turned the faucet on, splashing his face with cool water and rinsing his mouth out. He rested against his arm and turned his head sideways to see his most recent client finish urinating. Alex turned off the water and let his eyes slip shut. A zipper sounded in the quiet room and a few moments later the long drag of a cigarette. 

Alex sighed and waited for the smoking man to leave the cramped bathroom. When he didn't hear movement, Alex cracked open his eyes and watched the man staring at him. The smoking man took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes examining the younger man with an amused and appraising judgment. Alex shut away the image and turned his face into the sink. 

"You can leave the money on the bed," he coughed out, his throat raw from the vomit. 

There was another cigarette drag, and then Alex felt a presence from behind him as the smoking man stepped closer. The older man leaned forward and pressed the butt of his cigarette against the counter top. It made a sizzle as it went out, the dim embers being pressed into a water drop. He smashed it until the tip bent, then left it there, running his free hand from the top of Alex's spine to the crack of his ass and then rubbing lower. 

Alex opened his eyes and licked his lips, sighing. God, how he hated working when he was sick. 

"It'll cost extra." 

The smoking man didn't say anything in reply but continued to rub his hand down Alex's cleft. Alex took it that the man was paying, and he felt a finger push its way inside him, his ass still slick and stretched from earlier. The finger felt deeper, and Alex groaned when it nudged his prostate. Three fingers easily replaced one, and Alex straightened up and began leaning against the man behind him. The smoking man used his other hand to push Alex back into the sink, not allowing Alex to press against his suit. Alex gasped as the motion pulled the fingers away from him, and he pushed down farther, fucking himself on the hand below him. 

Another hand found its way to his front, and Alex thrust forward into it, grunting at the duel sensation. His cock was pumped in a rhythm matching the fingers penetrating him, and Alex spread his legs as he moved with the pulse. His hands gripped the edges of the counter top, and Alex voiced his pleasure as he felt the orgasm building. 

He pressed close to the counter, grinding his cock and the other man's hand into the cabinet, and Alex reached down and gripped the smoker's forearm in a bruising hold. Alex's eyes squeezed shut, and he came. The hands left him almost instantly, and Alex slid down to the floor, breathing heavily, slumped on his knees. 

"Whores and killers have such little shame," came the smart remark, and Alex opened his eyes to see the smoking man kneeling next to him and watching him with the same amused expression. The older man's lips formed the parody of a smile, and he stood, looking over the naked man. "Maybe one day you'll be more than a piece of ass, Alex." 

Then he turned and left the bathroom. Alex heard the hotel door open, then close, and he sighed, standing up stiffly and staring at his ill-looking reflection in the mirror. 

How he hated working when he was sick. 

* * *

End 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Jamwired


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